


Oreos and Honey-Milk

by yurImperial



Category: RWBY
Genre: Christmas, Defendence, F/F, family au, the Remnant version of Christmas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 05:49:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5528396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yurImperial/pseuds/yurImperial
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Join the Belladonna-Schnee family as they (attempt to) celebrate the Remnant version of Christmas: Defendence. Will Weiss ruin their holiday plans? Oreos/Monochrome/Checkmate, family AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oreos and Honey-Milk

**Author's Note:**

> 8tracks playlist: http://8tracks.com/yurimperial/oreos-and-honey-milk-1
> 
> Happy holidays!  
> -yurImperial

**~9:30 PM - Two Days Before Defendence~**

There's a tradition in Vale of hoping for a white Defendence day. Children wake up early and run to the windows looking for the glitter of fresh-fallen snow to bring a magical touch to this historic holiday. But this is not so in the Belladonna-Schnee family. Weiss, who rarely gets a chance to see her family in good weather, does not find white Defendence days spent snowed in at an airship terminal magical in the slightest. Blake still uses the phrase, if ironically; for her, a white Defendence is one without a single flake of snow. The only white she needs is her wife's snowy head appearing in the doorway on Defendence day.

"I'm proud of her, really I am," Blake says into the scroll pinched between her shoulder and cheek. She idly plucks a sippy cup from the sink and dries it off with a hand towel. "She's making a lot of progress. The minimum wage for Faunus has risen three-fold and she's shut down two companies with below-standard working conditions..."

"But?" Yang fills in the lull after Blake trails off, her voice stern but not unkind. "Spill it, Blakey. I know you, and there's something you're not saying."

Blake sighs heavily and puts the cup down; the spout is covered in fresh teeth marks. She wonders if Weiss will notice anything different when she replaces the sippy cup, or when she puts up Defendence decorations, or re-paints the little room at the end of the hall. She wonders if Weiss will notice how much higher the pencil marks have climbed up the wall in the entryway with _I'm this tall!_ scrawled next to it in childish handwriting.

She wonders if Weiss will make it home at all.

"Weiss is missing everything, Yang. Silvia's almost six already. Before we know it, she'll be all grown up, maybe even going to Beacon, becoming a huntress and going out into the world-"

"We said we would do the same thing, but look at us now."

Blake laughs quietly. By the time she'd left Beacon, the White Fang had dissolved on its own due to internal tensions. She hadn't been able to imagine a future that didn't involve fighting to correct the biggest mistake of her life, but the White Fang fell so easily once Cinder's plans were unraveled. After so much struggle, teaching the history of Faunus-Human relations at Beacon had seemed too mundane to even consider. It had been Weiss - and later, the wonders of advanced genetic technology - that showed her she still had more to live for than revenge.

"Yes, I never saw myself settling down and starting a family. But here we are, and I feel like Weiss will regret not being around to see our daughter grow up."

"Well, she _has_ always been much too forward-looking to focus on the present," Yang concedes. "But she also gave up her family's company - something that used to give her purpose. It can't be easy to let go of the symbol of your excellence when you've spent your whole life living up to it."

Blake falls silent, stung by the truth of her old partner's words and ashamed that she hadn't come to the same conclusion herself.

_Am I being unfair to Weiss? Maybe she is having trouble adjusting, and that's reasonable, but is it wrong for me to resent that? I've given things up, too. Still, I should have seen that she isn't doing this on purpose. It's just Weiss's way._

Growing restless in the silence of Blake's inner monologue, Yang's voice cuts in. "You know, I never did see Weiss as the type to get married. Grumpy old cat lady? Sure, but a _mother?"_ Yang chuckles. "Never in a million years. But now I see how wrong I was."

"How so?" Blake asks, moving to gaze out the kitchen window. The night is clear; no snow just yet.

"She's working hard; not because she'd rather be away, but to make the world a better place for you and Silvia."

"No, I know. I know that." Blake shakes her head to dispel her negative thoughts, tearing her paranoid gaze from the sky.

_Weiss always did have an indirect way of doing things. She can't just give compliments; she has to do it in a roundabout way, under the guise of criticism. So what looks like neglect, coming from her, is probably something else entirely._

"It's selfish, but I want her to just be with us. I know how easily trying to change the world can consume you..." Blake voice trails of to a whisper. She wraps herself in a one-armed hug.

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with wanting your family to be together for the holidays."

Yang's voice is unusually tender as she says this. Blake wants to believe her, but other worries still nag at her.

"It just feels like I'm asking her to give up her dreams."

"For the last time, just _talk_ to her. Wasn't Weiss always reminding us how important it is to communicate?"

"On the battlefield."

"Life's a battlefield, my friend."

"I'm hanging up now," Blake deadpans.

"Wait!" Yang shouts into the scroll. "I was supposed to tell you that you're welcome to join Ruby, Penny, and I again this year - with or without Weiss."

Blake's chest tightens, but she takes a deep, shaky breath and lets it back out slowly.

"...thank you, Yang. For everything."

"Anytime, Blakey."

As the Faunus hangs up, she hears little feet come padding down the hallway at a run.

* * *

**~11:00 PM - Two Days Before Defendence~**

Weiss sits down heavily on the side of the stiffly-made bed, a long towel draped around herself. She works a second towel through her wet hair; it smells of hotel and, though it really doesn't, she tells herself that it still carries the scent of the last hundred people who'd used it before her. It even feels worn. Used. She's disgusted to even have it touch her face when there are neatly-folded towels sitting at home, only to be used by her family. She sighs and crumples the towel into a damp ball in her lap.

Work had taken her outside the city of Vale - over half the continent away, and so close to the holiday season, too. The inspection was almost over, but she had found a few code violations that required deeper probing, and it was starting to look like the job would cut into her time off - again. She was weary of the long days standing around in factories, being lead to all the locations where human resources were employed, conducting thorough evaluations of their adherence to health and safety codes, double-checking _those_ evaluations... But it was all very necessary. Just the thought of Blake - or, Dust forbid, _Silvia_ \- working in some of the conditions she's shut down several factories for already, made her blood seethe. She would not allow such injustice to remain invisible, even at the cost of her own happiness. Isn't that how Blake would approach the situation?

Weiss looks down at the towel in her lap: the hotel-themed symbol of her separation from her loved ones. She slams her small fists into it a few times, thinking it will make her feel better, but instead it just makes her skin cold and clammy. She finally whips it at the wall and stands up to get dressed. Her suitcase is still sitting on a chair by the door, open but unpacked because she had been too keen on washing away the stench of factory earlier to bother. She pulls out an extremely warm, extremely soft sweater a few sizes too large for her petite frame. After squirming her way into it, she's already feeling much better. Despite its size, the fabric clings to her damp skin and hugs her like the arms of the sweater's owner. Blake's unique fragrance masks out even the generic soap scent clinging to her. Next, she pulls her long hair out of the collar, gathers and tosses it messily over one shoulder. Her fingers barely poke out of the sleeve cuffs and she shivers involuntarily at the waves of contentment these simple comforts bring her.

Pulling one more item from her suitcase, Weiss moves back to the bed to sit back cross-legged against the pillows. Her fingers smooth over the glassy surface of a picture frame, three happy faces smiling out at her. Beside her in the photo, Blake cradles a two-year-old Silvia with hair as white as fresh snow. Weiss's fingertips move to the round face with cheeks rosy red in the winter chill of that day. Honey-gold eyes peek out from beneath a knit cap; the silvery tip of a feline tail can just be seen amidst the layers of protective winter clothing. Small, delicate lips are pursed into a delighted smile aimed beyond the camera, where Yang had been making faces to get us to laugh while Ruby took the picture. Blake's smile looks easy and natural, but Weiss doesn't recognize her own. She tries to imitate it, only for the expression to feel unnatural. Like a lie.

Her eyes go back to Silvia's face and stay there for a long while. Eventually, her lips manage to loosen into a more tentative smile, still subdued but no longer forced.

* * *

**~9:45 PM - Two Days Before Defendence~**

"Mommy, mommy!" Blake looks up as Silvia comes running into the living room in her pajamas. She runs into her mother's legs and gazes up, her tail swishing excitedly. "Was that White Mommy? Did she change her mind? Is she coming home?"

Blake's parted lips close after a difficult pause. She kneels down to lift Silvia into her arms and carries her daughter back to the room at the end of the hall.

"Honey, White Mommy can't come home this time, either."

When it looks like Silvia is going to burst into tears, Blake sits on the edge of the bed and runs her fingers through her daughter's hair. A pang goes through her heart at just how much it looks and feels like Weiss's hair. Blake resolves to do it up in a nice side-tail for her tomorrow.

"Hey, no crying while White Mommy is away, remember? She's being really brave out there, helping out all sorts of people. We need to stay strong for her."

"Like the Three Huntsmen?"

Blake chuckles. "Yes, just like the Three Huntsmen."

"Will you read the story to me again?" Silvia's eyes glisten like pools of warm honey, her disappointment momentarily forgotten. It's enough for now.

"Of course, my little snow angel."

Blake pecks her on the forehead and gets up to retrieve the picture book from a shelf. The Three Huntsmen is a classic among classics in Vale, a purportedly true story that inspired the holiday and Silvia's preferred bedtime story year-round. It'll be surprising if she doesn't end up at Beacon, one day.

Settling back onto the bed next to her daughter with the book open in her lap, Blake gazes down at Silvia for a moment before starting. The young girl's hair, already grown quite long, fans out over the pillows like rivulets of icy water. Despite being up past her bedtime, she forces her heavy eyelids open so she can follow along with the story. The pictures are beautiful hand-paintings, the volume an ancient first edition that Blake had picked up through her work as a historian.

"Long ago, there was a village deep in the Emerald Forest. The people there were plagued by horrible beasts - the Grimm."

A flourishing village surrounded by vibrant greens fills the first page. When Blake turns to the next two pages, a stylized depiction of a Grimm practically leaps out.

"The villagers were very afraid. They loved their home and didn't want to leave, but they also couldn't fight back..."

The next page shows a horde of Grimm beasts surrounding a small group of villagers holding crude weapons. Silvia's eyebrows crease in sympathy even though she knows how the story goes by heart.

"The beasts cut off their trade routes and terrorized their children at night. As a harsh winter fell, they started to grow desperate."

The next panel shows the village covered in show, the bright greens now absent. Dark, shadowy shapes crouch under the trees menacingly, their eyes glowing red.

"Just when the villagers gave up hope, three strangers appeared. With flashing weapons, they slew the horrible Grimm with ease and shared their supplies with the villagers."

Blake turns the page again to show three figures in long traveling cloaks greeting the people of the village. The figures' faces, identities, and genders remain a mystery.

"In return, the grateful villagers shared a meal with their saviors, thanking them for their bravery and selflessness. When asked of their identities, the travelers merely called themselves the Three Huntsmen."

A warm and colorful depiction of the dinner fills the next two pages, with the last one showing the Three Huntsmen standing in the doorway preparing to leave.

"The Three Huntsmen departed the next day, disappearing into the snow in search of others to assist out of the goodness of their hearts. Ever after, the villagers celebrated that day by sharing gifts, enacting selfless deeds, and gathering with their families to feast. They named the holiday Defendence in honor of the heroes who defended them from evil."

Blake closes the book and finds Silvia fast asleep, her tiny hands tucked beneath her chin. Blake smiles and places a lingering kiss on the crown of her head before replacing the book on its shelf and turning off the lamp. She lingers in the doorway and catches a glimpse out the window as the beginnings of a snowfall gather on the sill.

* * *

**~11:30 PM - Two Days Before Defendence~**

Feeling lonely but somewhat consoled, Weiss finally slips under the comforter and switches the lights out. She then turns on the television at low volume and searches for a boring news channel. These days, she likes to have background noise while she sleeps, something that won't be distracting while giving the sense of having company.

Turning onto her side, Weiss pulls a pillow against herself, hugging it like another body and burying her face in its embrace. Her body curls into it automatically and she burrows deeper into Blake's sweater in an attempt to let the warmth spread from her body to her lonely thoughts. The absence makes her chest contract painfully as though deprived of some life-giving necessity. Rather than imagining the curve of Blake's waist in the pillow, or the softness of Blake's skin where two fingers escape the confines of her sleeve to touch the pillowcase, she closes her eyes and tunes in to the dull chatter of the television.

"...through the surrounding areas, making travel difficult. Three feet of snow are expected to fall in most areas by 5:00 PM on this year's Defendence, making it a very white one indeed. The blizzard will be hitting the north-eastern region especially hard, so travel is not advised after..."

Weiss's eyes fly open, an idea striking her like a bolt of lighting. She throws off the covers without hesitation and dashes to her suitcase, hurriedly grabbing things on the way and throwing them into it. She doesn't bother turning the lights back on and nearly collides with the bathroom door as she scrambles to scrape all her makeup into her arms. Within ten minutes, she's hurriedly dressed and rushing out of the room for the front desk.

* * *

**~11:00 AM - Defendence Eve~**

"Hold still, Silvia." The young girl squirms under her mother's fingers as they deftly twist her hair into a ponytail.

Blake's eyes are locked on the television screen over her daughter's head. A reporter is covering the incoming snowstorm, and the more that comes out of the woman's chapped lips, the more Blake's already minuscule hope drains away. She had tried calling Weiss up earlier, as Yang had made her promise, but the call wouldn't go through. The storm was already moving and knocking out power one city at a time. She doesn't realized she's sighing until Silvia looks up at her with round eyes.

"Black Mommy, are you sad?"

Blake catches herself and schools her expression into a forced smile.

"Not as long as you're with me." She tugs at her daughter's side-tail one last time so that's it looks just right. "Why don't you go wash up and get ready for lunch?"

Just then, a knock at the door draws both of them to the entryway out of curiosity. Blake pulls the door open as if in a dream; the action feels as though it will wake her up and this past week will have been nothing but a nightmare, impotent against the light of day streaming in. A chill races up her ankles as a breeze blows in and Silvia peeks out by her hip. The girl immediately screams and runs out onto the porch with her arms out in a request to be picked up. Blake stands frozen in the doorway as Weiss drops her luggage to receive their daughter, her hair messy and clothing rumpled as though she'd slept in them.

"You're... here." It isn't a question, though she feels no less sure that she isn't dreaming, after all.

Dazed, Blake steps to the side to let Weiss carry Silvia inside, a pair of tiny arms around her neck. She follows with the luggage, still reeling from this surprise.

"I thought you couldn't make it," she nearly demands as Silvia drags White Mommy over to see the drawings and finger paintings she made while Weiss was gone.

"With the blizzard going on, I wouldn't have been able to continue the inspection, anyway. Oh, that's very nice, honey-"

"So you changed to an over-night flight to beat the storm?"

Weiss straightens up, her side-tail flopping over her shoulder like limp, stringy pasta.

"Right, I only just got in." Her eyes flick up to Blake's quizzically.

The two women stand facing one another, Blake's expression unreadable for a long moment before her lips part.

"...is that my sweater?"

By the time Weiss lifts her gaze back up from the garment, Blake's lips are pressing against hers urgently. Weiss feels herself floating until a pair of familiar hands find her waist and pull her back down to earth. The needy press of lips and fingertips crack her open like an egg and years of tension gush out, melting her into a puddle within Blake's embrace. She's conscious of her wind-raw lips and is sure her nose feels like an ice cube, but Blake only holds her closer. And somehow, this small acceptance is what warms Weiss to her core.

She finally pulls away and just rests her hands on Blake's chest between their bodies, her nose buried in the warmth and smell of the Faunus woman. When a weight crashes into her leg, she looks down to see a white side-tail identical to hers bobbing on a little head resting against her thigh. She reaches down to toy with the perfect miniature of her own hair style and looks back up at her wife.

Blake just shrugs and hooks her hands together behind Weiss's back.

"She is your daughter, after all. Oh, by the way, we're meeting Yang, Ruby, and Penny for dinner tomorrow."

Weiss smiles and nods once.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world."


End file.
